


I Couldn't Get The Boy To Kill Me

by techieturnover



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, More characters to be added, Soulmates, in which hydra convinces bucky steve is trying to kill him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2179860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/techieturnover/pseuds/techieturnover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When you're born, there is one name you know instantly; intimately. It is the name of the person who is your equal and complimenting partner. A soulmate. It is a name that cannot be unknown to a person. Even through the worst traumas and injuries - a person could lose everything else they have ever known and still know the name that floats on the edge of their conscience."</p>
<p>When they ask you the name, you tell them because it is what you are expected to do. A weapon must function as expected. You do not know the reason for the name - Steven Grant Rogers - but it is always there.</p>
<p>They tell you this is the name of the man who will kill you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Couldn't Get The Boy To Kill Me

**Author's Note:**

> AU # 15,0483,049 
> 
> 2-4 Chapters, depending on how far this goes. This is unbeta'd so far, so any and all mistakes or horrible writing is mine.

When they ask you the name, you tell them because it is what you are expected to do. A weapon must function as expected. You do not know the reason for the name - _Steven Grant Rogers_ \- but it is always there.

They tell you this is the name of the man who will kill you.

The men around you seem to expect your reaction to be anger, but you do not feel it. A weapon does not have feelings. You file the name away along with the reaction that is expected to it. But.

A weapon does not care who destroys it. 

\--

It has been many years since you have heard the name aloud, but it hovers in your mind whenever you are awake. It is the only thing besides the beat of your heart you are aware of when you pull a trigger. The only thing you know besides your training and your objective. It is the name of the man who will kill you.

It is now the name of the man who is your mission.

The part of you that is always calculating realizes that this means your mission is one of suicide. You have outlived your usefulness. You file the information away and make a note not to withhold excessive force. You have been programmed to know how much strength is safe to use - before the metal arm that attaches to your spine becomes detached and rips nerves and muscle out with it - but that will not matter if they do not intend to fix you.

A weapon does not care how it is destroyed.

\--

The man is Steven Grant Rogers. He stands stock still in the middle of the highway, his face full of disbelief. "Bucky?" 

It's not a memory in the way you have been taught to recall facts or how to fire a gun, it is deeper than that. You are thrown violently for a moment into a scene where someone who is much smaller than Steven Grant Rogers but with the same face smiles at you, and you are laughing. You remember experiencing happiness, but a weapon does not have emotions.. "Who the hell is Bucky?" 

A weapon does not care what it is called.

\--

You flee.

\--

This is where you will die. You have been instructed to stall Captain America (Steven Grant Rogers) should he appear until the launch of Project INSIGHT. You do not know what this means for the name in your head. 

"People are gonna die, Buck." The sincerity in the man's voice makes something inside you unfurl, and you take a moment to analyze when you started recognizing that tone. "Please don't make me do this." You are supposed to stall Captain America - Steven Grant Rogers - should he appear until the launch of Project INSIGHT. As he lunges at you, you accept that you will die stalling. It makes no difference, but the certainty makes it easier to fight to the limits of your strength.

Steven Grant Rogers is trying to get to the control panel for the Helicarrier you are on. You must not allow him to reach it. You both flip over the rail, he is chasing after a small chip that was taken out of his belt. It is important, and having it in your possession will stall him. He struggles with you for it, pain sears through your right shoulder when he dislocates it. You struggle against the change in his grip and you cannot breathe. There is something about his body pressed along every crease of yours that is familiar beyond combat and it is that sensation you feel as you black out.

When you release, he releases. Hearing returns before sight and you hear him climbing back up to the control panel. The room is spinning as you struggle to stand. Stall. Do not kill. _Do not kill._ The words are becoming stronger. Steven Grant Rogers' name seems less menacing. You shoot him in the thigh, but he keeps climbing. Your aim is off but not by much. You shoot his hand and he almost falls. Another breath steadies you. He is at the panel when you finally shoot him through the middle, to the right of his spine into what should be a kidney. It will not kill him, but he is stopped. A wave of nausea hits you as he collapses, and you collapse as well. 

The ship explodes. As cannon fire blasts around you the glass and metal you have been fighting on starts coming down. You are still dizzy and you do not see the beam until it is too late. You have failed in your mission, but either way you will die. Steven Grant Rogers is supposed to kill you. He jumps down from the control panel, you take your last breaths. There is panic underneath your skin that a weapon should not feel. You've already malfunctioned though, and Steven Grant Rogers is about to kill you anyway.   
He doesn't kill you. "You know me." He says it stubbornly as he tries to grab the beam trapping you. 

He is freeing you to kill you. ...

He strains to free you but his voice is steady. "You know my name is Steve." He takes another breath. "Steven. Grant. Rogers. It's always in your head, right?" Yes. It is. "Yours is in mine too. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes." The name makes something in you snap and you attack again. There is no more mission except the name in your head, but it is coupling with blurry images of a boy with a familiar face and an even more familiar body. Your left arm is warped and does not carry the strength it should. He catches your fist. "It's because we're soulmates, Buck. We're friends. Lovers." There is emotion in the last word as your fist crashes against the shield. 

Your teeth clench and you throw your right fist, still sore, at his face. It connects but he does not go down so you lean in close. He is not fighting back. "It means we will kill one another." You don't know why it's important that Steven Grant Rogers knows what his name in your head means. He makes a noise as you break away that sounds like a sob. The sound is distracting but you are able to free your left hand from his grasp. You swing it again. Your fighting is clumsy but he is not fighting back. 

"That what they told you?" It is what they told you, a very long time ago. Steven Grant Rogers' mouth sets in a hard line as he stumbles from a weak but well aimed kick to the same thigh with the bullet wound. He has, somewhere, dropped the shield he has used before as protection. "I'm not gonna kill you Buck ‘cause I can't. We're soulmates. You and me, pal." The words strike something in you - half of a distantly remembered phrase like the small boy and the laughing boy. 

"You're my mission." You attack again because something is tearing open in your head. He goes down but you can't hear anything over the roaring in your ears that sounds like a scream. You scream louder and slam your fist into Steve Grant Rogers' face. 

"Then finish it." His face is bleeding and there is already blood welling beneath his skin. "'Cause I'm with you 'til the end of the line." The words catch your breath in your throat, and the images that have been swimming behind your eyes become clear although the viewpoint is strange. 

A skinny boy - Steven Grant Rogers - shows you a piece of paper. It says 'James Buchanan Barnes' on it. You are holding one that says 'Steven Grant Rogers.' "'Til the end of the line, then, huh Buck?" The smaller boy says and he laughs.

There is another - memory? You follow the one with the name in your head up a metal stairway. You are both upset. Someone important has died. You are speaking. "-I'm with you 'til the end of the line." It is not just a statement meant to comfort. It is fact. It is crushing. This is _Steven Grant Rogers_. There are too many memories after that, swirling and mixing behind your eyes but all second to the beaten man beneath your fingers who is Steven Grant Rogers. Who slips out of your fingers as the glass of the aircraft breaks. You watch him getting smaller, but it feels like you're the one who's falling. 

It's not a conscious decision to pull Steve - that's what you called him. Not his full name, just Steve - out of the water. It is more panic blurred than you can remember feeling before but it is starting to occur to you that you do not remember much about your past.  
You look back again. Hydra was wrong about the name in your head. This is not the man who will kill you.

But you are a weapon. A weapon does not care who kills it(you do), what it kills(you cannot kill this man), or who destroys it(you care that it is not this man). A weapon does not have feelings(you have those), or emotions(and those), or a soul(you do not know if you have this).

You wonder if it is possible to have a soulmate without one. 

But you have his name in your head as you leave.


End file.
